


Helping Hand

by LONG LIVE EVIE (LadyLaviniya)



Series: Bite Mevie [1]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F, I Tried, Isle of the Lost (Disney), Kid Fic, Vampires, but it's not, i fail, it's just posted on Halloween, this was supposed to be a Halloween fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 16:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12585664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLaviniya/pseuds/LONG%20LIVE%20EVIE
Summary: It was a con gone wrong. Or right. Either way, Mal is going to get something out of it.





	Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> *This was supposed to be a Halloween fic and a _lot_ longer but I’m a dumbass and bit off more than I can reasonably chew... but that’s far from unusual. So I might continue this next year.

Mal swung her feet beneath her three-legged chair, scribbling purple all along the insides of the Mother-shaped blob she spent the last hour perfecting. She was an early riser when she had art on the mind—which was often, and right up there between Mother and Feeding. She loved to watch the colors of twilight creep through the cracks of her room and splash her walls in warm orange and soft peach, coating everything in a gentle quietness. Well, until the loud voice of another girl broke the silence.

“Excuse me, can someone help me?”

She sounded no older than Mal, but a thousand times more annoying.

“Ignore her, you can do it...” Mal mumbled to herself. She had more important things to worry about.

“Please! I’m stuck!”

“That’s your problem, not mine.” She gripped her colored pencil harder, knit her brow. Maybe if she stuck her tongue out, that might help boost concentration.

“A-anyone? I have some money, I’ll pay you, I promise! Please, I’m scared!”

Her grip loosened as she raised her head. It wasn’t the promise of money that caught her attention, it was the fact there was a reward at all. Maybe she could get her to yell for help in some other part of the Isle. Or do whatever she wanted like a servant for forever. But some money would be nice too. She could buy a new chair, or new supplies. Not that anything in these parts was really _new_ new but it would be for her, and actual money was hard to find around here since everyone hid theirs so well. Maybe she’d just leave the money and take the girl’s art supplies instead, if she had any.

“Yeah...” Mal nodded to herself, grinning. “Okay, I’ll help.”

She went to her window and rolled up the thin curtain, wincing under the direct light of the setting Sun as it touched her skin and scared her into jumping back. It didn’t hurt, but she was always afraid it would. Little girls who let the Sun have its way with them would fall under the curse of eternal sleep. Mother told her often, and Mother knew best.

Wherever she was stuck outside, the girl began to wail. Ugh. She had to hurry if she was ever going to get anything out of it, be it money or art supplies or even plain old peace and quiet.

She took a deep breath and tried her window again, rolling up the curtain and working her way outside. It was always easier the second time, and she slipped soundlessly through the bottom half where there should have been something there to stop her other than a flimsy piece of cloth. She ducked, slid, and jumped from her balcony and roof to the ground below, ears perking as she turned her head to find the source of the annoying crying. Judging by how loud it was it couldn’t be too far off.

Mal found the girl in an alley nearby crying into her arms, the lower half of her small body trapped beneath a fallen apple cart whose produce was already rotten to the core. She had soft blue hair that looked like early morning before the Sun reared its hot head from wherever it slept, and, like Mal’s shade of purple, would no doubt darken as she got older. Maybe to midnight, or a deep sapphire, even.

It would be a lovely color either way to have as one of her paints.

She knelt down beside the pretty head of hair, grabbed a chunk, and gave it a good tug before releasing. The girl’s sobs were interrupted by an additional cry of pain as she lifted her head and hurriedly wiped her eyes before looking up, sniffling.

“Please, will you help me?” she croaked.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Mal asked. She held out her hand, bracing herself for the warm touch of something very much alive, hopefully human, but more likely not just.

The girl smiled, her brown eyes shining. The soft Sun fell onto her face in dappled light, revealing the glow of pure human and the color to match. A healthy one with rosy cheeks. With sweet, rich, virgin blood flowing through her veins. Perfect for drinking.

Mal swallowed. There was a spark of warmth between them as the girl accepted her hand. An actual honest-to-Zeus human, nothing else. The first she’d ever seen. And, from the looks of it, her own age, too. She could make for more than just one meal, more than a couple, even, if Mal was careful. She could last for at least a year. What a rarity, a steal! Almost too good to be true.

It was a bit of an ordeal getting the girl out of there; despite her small body she was wedged in tight. The more she wriggled the less she pulled, making it seem like she wasn’t doing either of them any favors. Mal couldn’t decide if she was doing it on purpose or she was just that weak. She learned in school humans didn’t have the same amount of raw strength as other creatures. Girls were said to have less than boys, but how true was that coming from shrimpy little Uma?

It couldn’t have been that long since the cart fell on top of her for her to have gotten so weak. The color of her cheeks proved that. Humans were notoriously social beings, especially when they were hurt and needed help like this girl did, so she would have started yelling for some immediately after it happened, when her strength was mostly all there.

Unless...

With one final yank using all the strength she’d accrued in the entire six years she’d been unalive, Mal finally pulled the blue-haired girl out from under her wooden, splinter-filled prison, and she was rewarded for her efforts with a vigorous hug—right before she was slammed against the nearby wall in a delayed but still unusual show of strength.

This girl wasn’t human at all.

“Thank you ever so much...”  said the girl after she had a light laugh, and that smile which was once charming and cute turned smug as she exposed little baby fangs. Brown eyes glowed gold in preparation to attack, to feed. She squeezed Mal’s shoulders and dug her sharp nails into them, poking through the fabric of her shirt and earning her a wince, but nothing else.

Mal stood her ground and narrowed her eyes, staring directly into her victim’s own as per Mother’s instructions. Everything in her vision turned green, and soon enough, the girl’s confidence wavered, her expression morphed into one of pure terror. She released Mal’s shoulders and threw herself backwards against the opposite wall of the alley with a cry. It was only then Mal opened her mouth for a moment to show off her own fangs, which were not so large as they felt in her small mouth, and made her way towards the girl as her vision cleared.

Should’ve known quicker. Too good to be true was always the case.

Now she could get a good look at her. The girl stood trembling in a dress of royal blue, a dark cape over her shoulders with matching boots at her feet. She was clasping something between her hands. Her eyes remained wide as Mal drew near, lips parted, soundless.

“There are no pure humans on the Isle, and vampires attacking each other like that would get us both in big trouble.” When she was just centimeters away, Mal crossed her arms and tilted her head. “Who are you? Why are you out in the twilight hour when we’re not supposed to be?”

The girl’s eyes returned to normal as she calmed, and she opened and closed her mouth several times before she found her voice. “I—My name is Evie.” She dropped their gaze for a moment and shrugged. “I was just practicing... Not all of us can rely on scary looks alone. You’re one of the lucky ones.” She offered another smile, a friendlier one. “What’s _your_ name? How old are you?”

“I’m Mal. I’m six. What do you have in your hands?”

Evie’s smile faded as she bit her lip. Very slowly, she opened her hands and revealed a small heart of deep red bordered by yellow that looked something of gold, probably made of plastic. She wore it around her neck, attached to a long chain of the same bright color. Mal reached to touch it, to see if it was real, what colors were hiding beneath its muted sheen, and was startled when Evie pulled back and closed her hands.

“Don’t! It’s mi—I mean... it’s my favorite thing. Please don’t take it.”

Mal scoffed. “I don’t _want_ it.” She extended her hand again, only this time, she reached for a lock of Evie’s hair. “I want _this_.”

Perfect eyebrows furrowed. “My hair? Why?”

“Because it’s pretty and I want the color.”

“... I-I wasn’t lying when I said I had money. I’ll go get it for you right now if you—”

“Do you have any art supplies?”

Evie shook her head. “Only my makeup. My mom’s been teaching me how to apply blush since before I could walk. It’s how I look so—”

“—human,” they said together, and Mal nodded, clicking her tongue.

“I figured. You fooled me, too.” At that Evie smiled bashfully. “But I still don’t want your money. It’s either your hair or your heart.” She smirked as Evie’s face fell. That’s what she got for playing tricks. “What’s it gonna be, Blueberry Princess? The head? Or the heart?”

Using just one hand to hold her treasure left Evie’s other hand free to stroke the ends of her hair. “Not _all_ of it, right?”

Mal shook her head. “Just a lock or two. You won’t even miss it.”

But the look on Evie’s face said she _would_. She was one of those girls who made a big deal about her appearance, so playing the damsel in distress role was right up her alley. She’d also make a terrible werewolf. Mal tried to imagine that, a blue werewolf. That would be the perfect way to try out her new color once she had it. She had to practice drawing animals anyway.

After a long time of looking back and forth between the trinket in her hand and her lovely shade of blue hair, Evie sighed. The Sun had just about set, taking with it the twilight, the warm oranges and soft peaches, and the quiet. Night was upon them, and their part of the Isle was waking up.

“Meet me at de Vil’s Were and Tear in thirty minutes. If you don’t like the color dye we come up with...” Evie swallowed. “I’ll give you some of my hair.”

They shook on it, and Mal watched Evie run down the alley and turn the corner before turning back herself and making the hop, skip and jump it took to get back into her room before Mother knew she ever left.

Making friends wasn’t so hard.

“Good job, me,” she mumbled as she dove through the flimsy curtain and somersaulted across the floor. She laid there for a while, arms and legs completely sprawled, replaying the bits of conversation over and over in her mind and mouthing along with the dialogue.

_The head or the heart?_

_Not all of it, right?_

_You won’t even miss it._

_If you don’t like the color... I’ll give you some of my hair._

_My name is Evie._

_You’re one of the lucky ones._

_It’s my favorite thing. Please don’t take it._

_I don’t want it._

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t want the heart necklace after the fact. Maybe someday. She had time.

Ugh, and now that she thought about it, _really_ thought... Evie was the prettiest undead girl she’d ever seen and that made Mal want to punch her in the face.


End file.
